


A Friend of Oscar's

by Splatx



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha Hosea Matthews, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alphas have raptor wings, Begging, Knotting, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Omegas have songbird wings, Pleading, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Scent Kink, Scenting, Stranger Sex, Wall Sex, Wing Kink, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splatx/pseuds/Splatx
Summary: Breaking the silence abruptly, the boy asked, “S-say, haven’t I seen, seen you before?” he looked at Hosea hopefully, his feathers ruffling nervously, “are… are you a friend of Oscar’s?” and Hosea had to keep his wings from flaring, from displaying to the Omega—yes, yes he was a friend of Oscar’s. He’d not found many male Omegas who were willing to bed a male Alpha, it was too ingrained in them and while he was an Alpha and an outlaw he was not that horrible a man, not that much a slave to his instincts, but he very much was a friend of Oscar’s.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 34





	A Friend of Oscar's

It wasn’t often that Hosea got to get away from camp and relax.

He left camp often, don’t get him wrong. But only ever for work. To sniff out leads, slip his hands into pockets and find work for the others, jobs to offload to Arthur and John, Bill and Sean when he could force them to clear their heads and get off their asses. Even when he got to leave camp to ‘enjoy’ himself, it was often playing a part, acting the civilized gentleman to con some fool out of their ancestral money.

So when he finished a long job, having ridden halfway across the states, he intended on taking a break before riding home. He hadn’t written Dutch yet, hadn’t told him that his satchel was heavy with the fool’s money, and so he didn’t feel terribly guilty for taking a few days to rest and relax and enjoy himself.

  
  


The little town he’d stopped in wasn’t _great_. He’d not stuck around after robbing the man blind, slipping out in the middle of the night to where he’d left Silver Dollar tacked up and ready to go, and ridden his gelding hard, stopping only when he was a good two states away. The saloon was the best of the two in the little livestock town, and he’d stabled Silver Dollar and paid the stable owner to give the poor horse a workdown, intending on resting him for a few days after such a hard ride.

He’d spent a few days resting himself, not as young as he’d used to be, getting his guns tended to, eating well for once—at least, as well as one could in some backwater livestock town, heading out every once and a while to stretch his and Silver Dollar’s legs on short trail rides.

  
  


At the time, though, he had just finished a round of poker, one he had won—quite well, actually. He’d thrown a few hands, to keep them from suspecting anything, but from how drunk the men were he doubted they would have anyway. He swept his winnings into his satchel as he stood, spreading massive osprey wings wide in a lazy stretch, tipping back the last of his watered down beer. “Think that’s me done, gentlemen,” he hummed to the grumbling men, making his way to the bar and leaning on it, tapping his fingers on the wood to get the bartender’s attention, throwing down enough for a whiskey and receiving a dusty glass in return.

The door to the saloon opened, and the way everyone went quiet for a moment had him looking over the rim of his glass to keep from being to obvious, taking in the small, lanky form that walked in with little care to the many eyes that burned holes in them or, perhaps, their dove’s wings, small and dull but pure white, undeniably _songbird_ and marking them as _Omega_.

And, _oh_ , how interesting, a male one at that, he realized, taking in the face, the jaw just a hair too angular, the chest lacking that tell-tale curve, the hips curved but not curved enough and, as they got closer and he was able to take in their scent, their scent flowery as an Omega’s but with the underlying spice of a male.

How rare.

The little Omega made his way to the bar, putting down enough for a beer and sipping it down, wrinkling his nose at the flavor, and Hosea couldn’t blame him; the alcohol in Valentine was utter _shit_. While the Omega was distracted, though, he allowed himself an appreciative glance.

The boy was definitely pretty, in the way the few male Omega’s he’d seen were. Cheekbones rounded, nose blunt, eyes wide and soft, a soft blue. Freckles danced on tanned skin, and as he sipped at the drink he got a glance of a missing canine. Cute, he thought, was the best way to describe him. The boy’s shoulders were nearly feminine, not standing out noticeably, and he wouldn’t be surprised to find little muscle beneath his clothing, his build a slim ‘v’ that ended in a slightly pinched waist, hips not as curved as an Omegan woman but not as flat as an Alpha man.

Hosea had never been the most Alphan Alpha, sniffing after every Omega, but he couldn’t help but to think about how his hands would feel curved around the Omega’s waist, his fingers digging into the dimples he knew he’d find at the base of his spine.

It was just a dream, though, he was sure. Male Omegas were only ever supposed to mate with female Alphas, a female Beta if they absolutely had to. Male Beta to female Beta, female Omega to male Alpha. Anything else was blasphemy, taboo, and in some states downright illegal. Your first gender always came first, your secondary gender second. It was ridiculous, if you asked Hosea, and Dutch, and most of their gang as well, but since when has civilization made sense?

And this Omega looked to be the civilized sort, the sort who would let his parents pick a mate for him, wait as they found a nice Alpha woman and play incubator for her. He looked back at his drink for a moment, and felt a pair of eyes burning into the side of his head. Tilting the whiskey down his throat, if it could really be called whiskey, he looked over to meet the Omega’s blue eyes, going wide as he was caught.

“Hello mister,” the boy said, tapping for the bartender and putting down the money for another beer. Hosea pushed his money back towards him, taking a moment to test the air, sniffing as subtly as he could and _oh_ , offered him a grin,

“Let me buy you a drink son,” as he put down the money for a whiskey that was quickly placed in front of the Omega, enjoying the red that burnt at the crest of the boy’s ear.

“Thank you,” the boy tipped the whiskey back, only to splutter and cough, wings fluttering and arching and Hosea felt a definite bit of a thrill as wings used for little more than show brushed his own, a very intimate motion, the way the boy shivered even as he coughed, the Alpha thumping him on the back, showing that he wasn’t unaffected. Though that was to be expected, wings are incredibly sensitive and personal things, only meant to be touched by mates and family and flock.

“Alright there?” Hosea chuckled, and the boy (though he was barely a boy, Hosea would have placed him at perhaps twenty or twenty one, still a boy to the man) nodded even as he wiped tears from his eyes.

“Wasn’t… wasn’t expecting that, s’all,” and he couldn’t help but to wonder what such an Omegan Omega was doing in a place such as Valentine, where the men, Alpha and Beta both, were drunkards and bastards, the air reeking of alcohol and filled with foul language and screaming both. He seemed like the sort of Omega to be found in a manor down in Saint Denis, kept dozing on a pillow and covered in fine silks and jewelry ripe for the picking.

“Don’t drink much, do you son?” he asked, and the boy shook his head,

“No sir, usually wine, never whiskey.” his nose wrinkled, turned up and made his opinion quite clear without saying a word.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Hosea chuckled, tapping the bar and getting another whiskey, not missing how the boy’s wings twitched, arching just slightly as the Alpha sipped at the alcohol, savoring it instead of downing it in one go despite how foul it tasted.

“Not one I care to acquire, then,” and Hosea allowed himself a laugh after he swallowed the whiskey, shaking his head, his own wings arching in return. The boy’s eyes were drawn to them, the fluffy white coverts he could just make out, the banded brown secondaries flared slightly by the movement.

They sipped at their drinks, the boy passing his whiskey to Hosea after another poor-fated attempt at quickly acquiring the taste, the Alpha buying him a beer despite the Omega putting up a token argument, finally thanking him and looking more comfortable as he sipped the drink, though his nose still turned up in distaste he didn’t start choking on it.

Breaking the silence abruptly, the boy asked, “S-say, haven’t I seen, seen you before?” he looked at Hosea hopefully, his feathers ruffling nervously, “are… are you a friend of Oscar’s?” and Hosea had to keep his wings from flaring, from displaying to the Omega—yes, yes he was a friend of Oscar’s. He’d not found many male Omegas who were willing to bed a male Alpha, it was too ingrained in them and while he was an Alpha and an outlaw he was not _that_ horrible a man, not that much a slave to his instincts, but he very much was a friend of Oscar’s.

“I know Oscar,” he agreed, and watched the boy’s wings mantle, the movement cutting off abruptly to keep from drawing too much attention, face flushing and eyes darting to his own wings, much larger and darker than the boy’s, a predator’s instead of a songbird’s, made to intimidate and court. The boy had frozen, looked unsure of what to do next, and while Hosea didn't want to push him he didn’t want the boy to panic and rabbit, so he applied just that little bit of pressure, “is he looking for me?”

The boy startled as though spooked, and for a moment Hosea thought he would rabbit, regret what he’d done and get the sheriff and Hosea would have to bolt for home sooner than he’d planned, but finally he nodded, and Hosea could see his adam’s apple bob as he gulped, “Y-yeah, he asked me to come get you.”

Hosea nodded, throwing back the last dregs of his whiskey before clapping his hands on his knees and standing, heading for the door. The Omega followed at his heels, and he could feel his eyes burning holes in his wings, and flared them just enough to be noticeable only if you were looking.

He led the boy into the alleyway next to the saloon, glad that it was just gone night and they’d be hard to see, and the saloon was _loud_ so there was little they’d have to worry about keeping quiet. “What’s your name, mister?” the boy asked, shifting from foot to foot nervously in the mood, looking over his shoulder as though expecting the law to suddenly materialize.

“Hosea,” the Alpha answered, thought for a moment about giving a false name but wanted nothing more than to hear _his_ name coming from those lips, looking the Omega over and wishing that he could unwrap him like a treat. Peel off his shirt and nibble down his spine, lap at the oil glands at the base of his wings, but they were hidden beneath that duster of his and what a shame that was. As it were, all he’d be able to do was run his fingers through the feathers if the Omega let him, and _oh_ he hoped he did, Omega’s have the softest feathers, nothing like an Alpha’s rough, coarse ones, or a Beta’s, smooth and almost dull to the touch. And the Omega’s wings looked incredibly soft, plush and white and fluffy, more like fur than feathers.

“I’m Leo,” his wings arched, and ruffled, and it was enough for Hosea to reach forward and grab his wrist, tearing a gasp from the omega as he swung him around, slamming him against the wooden wall of the Doctor’s, looming over him and grinning at the smaller man appreciatively.

“So handsome,” he hummed, and the boy’s eyes darkened, adam’s apple bobbing, and the Alpha spread his wings without thinking, arching them and stretching them out, out, out as far as they could go, enjoying the strain of the muscles, enjoying even more the way soft blue eyes widened, gleaming with appreciation, licking his lips with lust as the Alpha presented to him, osprey wings not half so distinct but striking in their own way. And the Omega returned it, stretching out his wings in turn, though his wingspan wasn’t half as wide they were beautiful as an Omega’s should be. “Good boy,” Hosea crooned, and Leo shuddered, tilted his head back and offered his neck, and Hosea didn’t wait to lower his head, flicking his tongue against his pulsepoint, feeling him shiver and hiding a grin against his skin as he began to suck at it, sinking his teeth into the skin and bruising it, leaving a mark that would last for quite a while (he wasn’t the most Alphan Alpha, but he _was_ an Alpha, after all).

Leo trembled beneath him, as quiet and pliant as any self-respecting Omega, and Hosea was determined to make him let go, to draw him out of that shell, and stepped closer, nipping a line along the straining tendon of his neck, rumbling low in his chest as he went, arching his wings to hide and cradle them, nudging his knee between his thighs and _-bingo-_ the Omega groaned as he pressed against the bulge in his pants, bucking his hips at the sudden pressure, hand flying up to muffle the sound, but Hosea grabbed it by the wrist and pinned his hand to the wall, shaking his head, “Let me hear you,” as he began to grind his knee into Leo’s erection.

The Omega’s head jolted back, slamming against the wall hard enough that the Alpha flinched, looking to make sure there was no blood, but Leo was fine, wings twitching against the wall as he whimpered and shivered, rutting against his leg like a dog, eyes wide and glassy. “P-please,” Hosea’s eyebrows raised, and he grinned, lowering his head and nipping at his pulse point as Leo went rigid, a high-pitched whine tearing from his throat, hips giving tiny little aborted bucks, the air smelling of Omega-cum.

Leo panted, eyes hazy, and Hosea let him regain himself, enjoying himself as he licked and nipped and sucked at the Omega’s neck, the boy giving a whole body shudder when he lapped his tongue over his scent-gland, the Omega’s oils thick on his tongue, sending electricity sparking through every cell of blood in his body. “Good boy,” he panted, out of breath just from the taste of him, “such a handsome Omega,” and as boneless as Leo was he jolted beneath him, whined pitifully, and Hosea was so keyed up he couldn’t wait any longer.

As gently as he could, he grabbed the Omega by the shoulders and twisted him around, pressing him against the wall. Leo grunted, but pressed his hands out to brace himself, reaching down to undo the buttons of his pants, Hosea reaching one hand down to help him, the other running up and down his spine, unable to stop touching the Omega. “Hosea!” Leo gasped abruptly, jerking as though he couldn’t decide to pull away or push towards him when he brushed his spent cock, and he pulled his hand back to lick his hands clean of the Omega’s cum as he used his other hand to push his pants down just enough to make him accessible. Leo spread his legs, presented himself as Hosea pulled himself out of his pants, running his thumb over himself, the pleasure making him growl.

A cursory check found the Omega’s opening slick, wet but not sloppy, and giving without gaping, and some part of him knew _pre-heat_ but he was too occupied with nipping at Leo’s spine, the Omega shivering, nervous-scent strong in the air, “Good boy, such a beautiful Omega,” as he aligned himself, rubbing his cock-head up and down for a moment to cover it with slick before pushing the tip into his hole.

Both of them groaned as he pressed in, the Omega shifting to better brace himself, while Hosea took a tight grip around his waist (it felt just as nice as he’d known it would) with one hand, the other stroking up and down his side soothingly as he slowly, slowly pressed inside. Like any Omega, he was giving, but Leo was already nervous enough he didn’t want to spook him further. He was warm, and wet, and it was taking all Hosea had not to press him into the wall and fuck and mate and breed him.

“Please,” Leo groaned, arching his wings, and he pulled out before thrusting in slowly. The Omega shuddered, and so he did it again, and again, going faster each time until the Omega was being jolted forward, spreading his legs and planting his hands to brace himself better, each thrust knocking the breath from his lungs with a whimpering “Ah!” that went right to Hosea’s erection, bringing his other hand down so he was grasping him around his waist with both hands, wings wide to balance him, setting his teeth into the back of his neck and thrusting violently, mindlessly, growling all the while.

“Ah, Alpha, Alpha, Alpha,” the Omega began to whimper, his cock, having quickly swollen up again after Hosea filled him, bouncing against his stomach, head going a painful looking shade of purple, useless balls beginning to draw up against him, “Please, please, please,” and that was nice, but Hosea had put himself at great risk by giving him his real name and he wanted to _hear_ it so he snarled, the Omega’s cock jumping at the sound, grabbing Leo’s hair and pulling his head back, nipping at his throat as he asked

“What’s my name?”

Leo sobbed, squirming against him, “Hosea! Hosea, Hosea, Hosea, please please please,” and the Alpha _moaned_ , set his teeth so hard into his throat he tasted blood, and reached down to stroke the Omega’s cock at the same time he thrust, aimed for that _one spot_ , and the Omega convulsed against him, keening so loudly he feared they’d be heard even with the loud saloon so he tugged his hair even further to the side and pressed his lips to Leo’s, swallowing down the sound.

The Omega whimpered, slumped against the wall as he came down from his high, wings twitching, and without thinking Hosea pushed one away as it struck him in the face, feathers filling his mouth as he panted, only to still, eyes widening, as Leo sobbed, arching his back, knees buckling even as he and pressed his wing back into his touch and, _oh_ , but that was an honor, and Hosea pressed him against the wall, running his fingers through those soft, soft feathers as he fucked into him, the air filled with filthy squelching, wonderful Omegan whimpers and Alpha grunts. The Omega squirmed with each touch of his fingers to those sensitive feathers, tears trickling down his face from the overstimulation, but when Hosea asked “Are you alright?” he demanded “Don’t stop!”

He wasn’t a young thing anymore, prone to knotting before he knew he was about to, so when he felt that pressure starting to build in the base of his cock, the urge to press in and still, he moved to pull out, but Leo begged “Please, knot me, please,” and Hosea bared his teeth, dropped his head to rest it against the Omega’s wing as he pressed into him and stilled, knot expanding and holding him in place as he began to fill Leo with his seed, a low growl rumbling in his chest, the Omega moaning at the warmth.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he panted, crossing his arms and resting his forehead on them, Hosea panting and leaning against him, trying to find a comfortable way to wait for his knot to go down.

“Good boy,” he rumbled, stretching forward to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, nipping at them and finding that the Omega could give as good as he got when Leo turned his head into the kiss.


End file.
